Trouble seems to catch a motherf**er with his cards down
Gotta keep my drawers up, sh**'s gettin hard now
These motherf**in cops be plantin sh** on these n***as
Simply because these n***as got bank accounts that's bigger
I just can't get no peace from you motherf**in rollers
Everytime I pull my Benz or what, 'cha pull me over
I'm sick of motherf**ers who be checking Whitey's coke tip
Blacker than a motherf**er, sweat me 'bout my *?dope-sip*?
n***as just take your cut and get your a** up out my face
The only thing you probably get from me is a co*k-s**ing pistol case
Unless you plan on plantin a lil' somethin in my sh**
Just because you ain't got sh**, b**h!
Give em a badge and a trigger and that makes em figure
That they can f** with a million dollar n***a
They got you mixed up, fixed up at the Segas, shookin Indo
Gettin f**ed up in the gank-hole
The only way you'll whip that motherf**er is when you whip that
motherf**er
And we choke the motherf**er (Me stuck the motherf**er!)
So when you hear my song and wanna get it on
You better come prepared motherf**er, you dyin wit'cha boots on
[Chorus:]
(Put ya foot in my sh** and let me try on your hood)
Dyin wit'cha boots on
(Put ya foot in my sh** and let me try on your hood)
Yeah
[Interlude:(prison guard talking to inmate)]
[Guard:]
Do you know how many years you're facing inside?
25 to life and that's on the real
So you better snitch on your partner
[Inmate:]
f** that! It was Brad Dawg, I ain't goin out by myself
n***as gettin caught, doin time, so they snitchin
They pickin n***as up on a funky a** suspicion
We'll be goin down for some questioning we think
And end up gettin hit with the f**in kitchen sink
Racketeer and laundering, Kingpin wondering
If they got some unsolved murders, then give him some of them
Just because we're n***as and they figure we're no smarter
We sell each other albums, start frattin on our partners
They start bringin up sh** that happened back in '85
And then comes the largest jury, b**h, they f**in time!
You might as well play the state
Cos you come to day for day
And sellin out your homeboys ain't the sh**
Cos y'all gonna have to die in this b**h, b**h!
Lobbin wit'cha white suits on
And dyin wit'cha motherf**in boots on
(Put ya foot in my sh** and let me try on your hood)